


Priceless

by ghostyplasma



Category: Original Work
Genre: D/s, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Elf, M/M, NSFW, Original work - Freeform, Overstimulation, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:40:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostyplasma/pseuds/ghostyplasma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'My lord,' he squeaks once fingers swirl and play with his entrance. Between his cheeks and thighs run rivulets of sticky lubricant from their previous play, and his hole is silky and yielding. His lord’s fingers slip inside easy and smooth, prodding the warm walls of him while he plays with his cock."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priceless

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work thought up from playing Cards Against Humanity. I'm thinking of maybe turning this into a comic series of kinks! We'll see. enjoy xx

He moans softly, attempting to hide his pinched expression against his bicep. He reeks of sweat and sex and other things, body slick and pale and naked under the attentive stare of his lord Rogen Joryc.

"No more," he whimpers. Pale peach hair sweeps out of place like a river made of silk, down across his shoulders and face in long strands that cover his shamed expression. "Please."

One hand reaches down to tug softly at the hard cock between the elf’s legs. He arches away with a pained gasp, squirming under his master’s steely gaze. His skin prickles and he aches to break away from this uncomfortable position on his knees.

"Please!" he desperately cries again, pearly teeth bared as he keens. "I cannot, I cannot." His chest heaves now as he looks up to his lord. Fresh tears spill down the blossoms of his cheeks. His eyes are red-rimmed and they droop with fatigue.   “One last time,” Rogen coos from above. “Just once. Then I’ll allow you to sleep in the grand bedroom tonight- for being so good.”

A shiver shakes the young elf’s stocky frame. Bowing his head, he relents and pushes his hips out for his lord without so much as another word. His position makes his thighs scream out in a strained agony; he’s knelt down on the stone for what seems like hundreds of minutes passed. However with his teeth grit and a determined knit to his brow, he keeps the crouch and presents himself for his master.

"Adriél." the lord murmurs, the foreign name rolling off of his expert tongue. He pumps his swollen cock once their eyes lock together. His other hand comes up to brush along a track of tears, his thumb soft and tender against the elf’s warm cheek. "Why do you cry?"

His voice trembles. “My lord,” he begins, bottom lip wobbling. “It is agonizing.”

"Hold on for a little while longer." his lord’s voice is soft, calm, and encouraging. His slick palm stripes up the elf’s pink sex. The other slides down passed his strong hairless jaw and neck, dances lightly over the curve of his chest and pert nipples, down finally to his pelvis. Fingers sweep back to grab and pull at the elf’s rear. The young elf shudders, unshed tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, chest fluttering with anxious breath.

"My lord," he squeaks once fingers swirl and play with his entrance. Between his cheeks and thighs run rivulets of sticky lubricant from their previous play, and his hole is silky and yielding. His lord’s fingers slip inside easy and smooth, prodding the warm walls of him while he plays with his cock. Helpless moans fall bereft and forlornly from the elf’s chapped mouth. He trembles uncontrollably before him, stance faltering until he is forced to bow in front of his lord with a weak cry. His shining forehead rests against his lord’s breast, nose pressing into the sweet-smelling fabric as he’s taken into the tight hold of irresistible pleasure.

  “Can you no longer stand tall?” Rogen asks, voice steady and powerful. The elf shakes his head no, letting pitiful mewls rip from his raw throat. He cannot speak; not while his cock is grasped so tightly in that slick hold of his lord’s; not as his ass is spread by a thicket of fingers that prod against the insufferable sweet spot inside of him.

He melts like caramelized sugar against his lord’s front, rocking back against his hand and forward into his fist. He can’t bare to keep the noises from escaping his throat so he makes as many sounds as he so pleases. He moans shamelessly against his lord’s chest, mouth open and panting hot breath. Sweat drips from his pale skin, the dribbles of cum from their earlier play drying cracked and tacky between his thighs.

"Master," he croaks, rubbing his nose against the man’s clavicle and pressing his open mouth there. Faint squelches sound between them as he’s fucked on fingers. He squeaks once, quite suddenly, and rocks fiercely against his lord as another orgasm ripples his senses. Between them proceeds a minute of uninterrupted silence while Adriél gives himself over completely.

Quicker than his words of warning could ever hope to be, his lord catches him just before his pleasure peaks. He holds tight to the base and leans over to retrieve an empty vial. Pressing the lip the very tip of his elf’s rosy cock, he stripes once, twice up and down before his little elf is coming enthusiastic and loud. Thick fluid filters inside and the lord’s placid face cracks into a pleased grin. He takes up the elf’s jaw with wet fingers and leads him into a kiss. Their tongues twine slick and wet together. Adriél breathes relief against his lord’s open mouth.

"Good," Rogen says, milking his sex until the elf’s muscles twitch and he gives a dissenting whine. "Very good. Shall we have a bath?"

His elf nods slowly after his licks his lips of the taste of his lord, fatigue wearing beneath his eyelids heavily. He blinks away his tears to cast a shy glimpse toward his master.

"Will I lay alongside you, my lord?"

Sticky fingers tickle the side of his soft jaw. “Yes.” he replies simply. “If you’d like. You did so well, I have half a mind to give you a treat.” Rogen gives him a cheeky, playful grin and pulls them both up to their feet. Adriél wobbles upward shakily and groans once vertigo take hold to swim around in his head.

"A treat?" Adriél piques up, instantly curious. Rogen does nothing but laugh heartily, his deep voice calming the traces if adrenalin swirling within the elf’s belly and replacing it instead with a pool of calmness and warmth.


End file.
